We Thought We’d Be There Long Ago
by fluxy2535
Summary: Peter knows passion, but not in the way his schoolmates think he does. Slash.


**Disclaimer:** These are not mine. The title comes from the song Seattle by The Classic Crime, which is what I was listening to when I wrote the first half.

**Author's Notes: **This is set during the end of The Last Battle, so if you haven't read the book it might not make sense.

* * *

He can't relate to the boys he goes to university with. When they catcall the girl that sits next to him in Biology or the one in his discussion group for his European literature class, he just shakes his head and goes back to his studies. The girls will just giggle and claim he's shy, or sensitive, or too passionate about his work.

Peter knows passion, but not in the way they think he does.

He knows passion is dark eyes and trembling hands, one on his lower back, the other on his hip; Sleepy Narnian mornings spent wrapped up in silk sheets and down blankets and each other, bare skin against bare skin; whispers of 'I love you so much' and 'I don't think I'll be able to go on without you' before breaking down and holding each other close, praying to both God and Aslan that they'll be allowed to be together in the end, that there's some other way.

It's been close to eight years since he's last seen Caspian, but when he closes his eyes all he can see is his face in vivid detail.

He realizes what's happening before it actually does. He sees the train wobble on the track before it breaks free, hears the screech of metal against the concrete floor. Peter closes his eyes tightly just seconds before he knows it's going to hit, balling his hands into fists in his pockets and taking a deep breath.

The impact never comes.

He feels like he's floating, like he's in water though he's completely dry. He remembers the Professor's stories about the wood between the worlds, and he knows that that's what this must feel like.

Then, he feels something completely different. Happiness. He's dead in Aslan's country, yeah, but with the Beavers and Tumnus and Trumpkin And Reepicheep and his family and all the people that really matter. He doesn't see Caspian but his heart drops out of his chest because his son is here, and he looks so much like Caspian it hurts. It hurts to know that in the end, Caspian did move on, even though he knew he would have to.

He's avoiding Peter. Edmund had seen him, so has Lucy. He knows he's here. He can't really blame him, as much as he wants to. Having your lover and son in the same room together is bound the be uncomfortable. What was worst of it was the looks Rilian kept giving him. The little smiles, as if to say he knows something Peter doesn't.

Caspian waits for the night to come to him, when he's sleeping in a vaguely familiar bedroom in Aslan's version of Cair Paravel. The mattress dips and wakes him as he curls up around him, a hand resting flat on his lower back and the other one holding on to the front of his nightshirt. He looks like the same teenager Peter met centuries ago.

It's then that Peter gets it. His room isn't his room at all. It's familiar because it's the room he had in Miraz's castle, back when they were together in Narnia.

His expression must change, because Caspian lets out a deep, rich laugh, "You get it now?"

His voice sends shivers down Peter's spine. It's still the same, that Spanish lilt and drawn out vowels. "I don't, really," he mumbles, his throat dry, "I mean, I'm here, in my room, but it should be as it was back when we ruled."

Caspian shakes his head, "Peter, it's our room. Haven't you noticed how old you are... how old I am?"

"Well, we're teenagers, but-"

"We're the same age as we were when we met."

Oh.

...

_Oh._

Peter laughs then, his higher and decidedly more feminine that Caspian's. "That's why we're this age? I just figured they made us younger. The Professor and Aunt Polly are both only a teenagers too, you know. About our age."

"It's all about what makes you happy. Here, close your eyes," Caspian covered Peter's eyes with his hand, "Now, what do you see when you think about the best day of your life?"

Peter doesn't even have to think about it. When they returned from Narnia he had played it over and over again in his head so many times that he would cry himself to sleep because he knew it would never happen again.

"That first day we were together. When we were at the How, and..." Peter trails off, blushing when he remembers how clumsy their first kiss was.

"And when did that happen?"

Peter smiles, pushing Caspian's hand from his face, "I get the point."

Caspian grins back at him, "Good."

"But what about your wife?"

Peter winces when the words come out sounding angry, but Caspian laughs again, "What about her?"

"Well, you're married. And your son..."

"We're not technically married anymore. You know, 'until death do us part' and all of that, and we're both quite dead. She has returned to the sky, with her father. As for Rilian," Caspian shrugs, "He would've known either way. We weren't really discreet. Someone would've told him, and that probably would've been worse. He understood... I think Eustace may have had something to do with that though."

"Eustace?" Peter balks, not expecting that. It did seem like a justified theory, though, with the great yelp and tight embrace the prince had received from his cousin when he saw him. The more Peter thought about it, the more it made sense. "But-"

"No more buts Peter," Caspian sighs, exasperated, "I love you, my family and your family certainly don't care. And I'm not married anymore, so unless... You aren't married, are you?"

Peter snorts in response, "I couldn't keep my mind off you or my coursework enough to even think of marriage."

It was sad but true. If he so much as looked at a boy or girl in that way, he would compare them to Caspian. Of course they never held up to him, and any attraction died away almost instantly, but he still felt guilty. His school work kept him busy, for the most part, and he probably would have graduated in the top of his class if he would have lived.

"Did you love her?"

Caspian shakes his head, "Why must you ask the most unimportant questions you possibly can?" He sighs, "Yes, I did. I was fond of her, but nothing like you. She understood that my heart belonged to you, and only you."

"But-"

"Peter, do you love me?"

Peter snorts, "No, I just tortured myself for the last eight years for the hell of it."

Caspian ignores his sarcasm, "You understand that I love you more than anyone or anything, right?"

"Yes."

"Are you willing to spend the rest of eternity with me?"

Peter sits up, eyeing Caspian incredulously, "Of course. Why would you even ask that?"

"Why do you keep on searching for something to hinder this when there is nothing?"

"I... it-" Peter frowns, furrowing his brow in an attempt to find a response. Caspian just laughs, sitting up to kiss his forehead.

"My dear little Peter," He coos, "don't hurt yourself thinking."

Peter cracks then, laughter pouring from his mouth as he pulls Caspian to him, falling into hysterics and finally realizing that this was it. He 's getting his wish to spend the rest of forever for the only person who matters.

Outside their door, Rilian grins at his lover. "See? I told you it'd work. You need to stop being such a pessimist."

Eustace sighs, rolling his eyes, "Love, It took forever for Peter to get it through his thick skull that Caspian wouldn't leave him now. If anyone's the pessimist I'd say it's my dear cousin."

"Oh shut it, the both of you," Lucy whispers, "I want to hear."

They both quiet down, noticing that they laughter has given way to whimpering. Rilian squeaks and shuffles away from the door to bury his face in Eustace's chest when he hears his father moan something less than innocent in spanish. "I think we need to go now," He whispers frantically, his two companions nodding before the three of them scatter, not wanting to stay around to hear their relation's love making.

After a few minutes Peter pokes his head out of the door, still fully clothed. "They're gone now," He whispers, turning back to Caspian, who's grinning and lying on their bed.

"I told you it would work."

Peter just laughs, shutting the door and locking it.


End file.
